A South Park Christmas Carol
by JoyHeart
Summary: Cartman was running an energy drink business with Kenny, but as Kenny has died again he has had to blackmail Kyle into working for him over the holiday season. 3 ghosts will be visiting him Christmas Eve to try to get the fat ass to change his ways.
1. Kenny is Dead

**A South Park Christmas Carol**

**Chapter 1- Kenny is Dead**

Kenny was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt about that, as dead as a door-nail. And Cartman knew it. Of course he knew it. Kenny died all the time. It wasn't news to him, even if Kenny _did_ seem to be taking his sweet time coming back from the dead this time around, which was pissing Cartman off royally.

You see, Cartman had recently come up with a brand new business venture that he had quickly made Kenny partner in. Kenny had invented a delicious new energy drink that instantly got any child under the age of six addicted with one sip and Cartman was quick to make a business of selling it. Unfortunately, Kenny drank enough of the stuff to get himself addicted, overdosed, and died, taking the recipe with him. Cartman tried to make the stuff himself, but couldn't seem to get it right. He wasn't about to try swallowing Kenny's soul again to figure out the recipe, so he was forced to deal with a bunch of angry children who were addicted to Kenny's energy drink. And with Christmas coming up Cartman was not in the best of moods, even if he was finally getting the I-Pod Touch he'd wanted for a month already.

Then he had discovered to his mix of horror and delight that Kyle Broflovski had in fact been entrusted by Kenny with the secret formula to the energy drink. So he quickly set about committing a horrible act of vandalism, photo shopped a picture to make it look as if Kyle had done it and threatened to take the picture to Mrs. Broflovski if Kyle did not surrender the recipe, and then do his accounting like a good little Jew. Kyle was of course outraged, but really he had no choice. It was Hanukah at the time, and he really didn't want to get his mother angry right then with the fear he would not receive his yearly presents for eight days. So enslavement to Cartman's enterprise was a shame, but unavoidable. Kyle was an employee of Eric Cartman this holiday season- or at least until Kenny came back- and had to hear all of Cartman's Jew bashing during 'work hours'.

Eventually Cartman reached his all important Christmas Eve Day. He wasn't looking forward to coming in to work that day, even though his office was in his basement, but he figured if he didn't the sneaky Jew was probably not going to either so he had to come to keep an eye on him and made sure he did his job right and didn't steal anything.

"Cartman, you are such an asshole," Kyle growled as he looked over the lists of clients and inventory. It truly disgusted him that he was being forced to help sell these insanely sugar-filled drinks to young children. Parents glared at him in the streets these days.

Cartman however glared at Kyle from across the room. He was playing his PSP, Grand Theft Auto of course. "Just keep working Broflovski."

"It's _freezing_ down here! Doesn't your mom think to pay the heating bill? DAMN!" Kyle snapped.

"Well maybe it's cold to _you_ Jew, because your heart is black and cold with no Christmas joy to speak of!" Cartman snappeded.

"WELL EXCUSE ME FOR NOT HAVING A LAYER OF WHALE BLUBBER, FAT ASS!"

A familiar voice from the staircase interrupted the common argument. "Hey guys, what's up?"

"Oh, Stan," Cartman slumped back in his chair "What do you want?"

Stan rolled his eyes as he descended into the basement. "Merry Christmas to you too, fat ass. Hey Kyle, wanna go shoot some hoops or-?"

"Mr. Broflovski is busy, go away," Cartman snapped.

"Hey! It's Christmas asshole!" Stan snapped back.

"Not for Jews!" Cartman protested.

"Hey guys! Merry Christmas!" A girl with a pink beret came waltzing down the stairs behind Stan.

"Oh, hi Wendy," Kyle blinked from his seat "What's up?"

Wendy smiled warmly at the unfortunate Hebrew boy shivering in the desk. "I'm here to collect unwrapped toys for the Christmas toy drive! Cartman, your mom said that you still have some toys you never opened from last year-"

"Damn it mom..." Cartman groaned and then spat, "NO! Those are MEH toys; you can get the HELL out, and take your hippie boyfriend with you!"

"Don't talk to my girlfriend like that, fat ass!" Stan's voice was rising, "Come on Wendy, I think I can get my mom to buy some toys for your toy drive." He headed back toward the stairs with his hand holding Wendy's and briefly turned to give Kyle a sympathetic look. "Sorry dude, I'll come back later or something."

Kyle sighed. "Yeah dude, whatever."

"Now get back to work! I need to know exactly what the profit we're making is so I'll know how many new PSP games I can get on Boxing Day!"

Kyle groaned and turned back to the lists in front of him. He worked for another hour during which time Lianne Cartman came down with snacks for both boys. Cartman quickly stole Kyle's when she returned upstairs. After that hour it was around dinner time and Kyle was supposed to go home.

"Okay whatever," Cartman shrugged when Kyle pointed this out, "Get in here tomorrow at noon, I should've opened everything by then so can play with my new I-Pod Touch while you keep working."

Kyle's mouth gaped open. "But... fuck dude! It's Christmas!"

"And since when do Jews celebrate the birth of Christ?"

"You made me work during Hanukah!"

"What the hell do I pay you for?"

"You _DON'T_ pay me! You _BLACKMAIL_ me! Asshole!"

Cartman sounded exasperated. "Well fine! If you want to be a whiny bitch with sand in her vagina about it, take the day off! But you'd better be in here fucking early on Boxing Day Jew!"

"You are such a dick!"

"No, I'm a marketing genius. Now get out of here so I can eat, butt-pirate!" Cartman growled.

"Gladly!" Kyle marched off in a huff and Cartman went happily up to dinner.

After a delicious Christmas Eve ham, Cartman rushed up to bed to wait for Santa Claus to bring him his I-Pod Touch. Or his mom could be the one who does it. It could be either one as far as he was concerned and he didn't care, as long as he got his I-Pod Touch in the end. He reached his bedroom door and went to grab the handle when he saw something that made his hand freeze.

There was usually nothing odd about this door handle, but today it bore the face of one, dearly departed, Kenny McCormick.

"AH!" Cartman yelped and backed up quickly from the door. But when he looked back at the handle it was just a handle again. He was confused, but shrugged it off and went inside. This was Christmas! He wasn't going to let that poor piece of crap piss him off tonight! Though, when he got in his room, just to be on the safe side, he set Clyde Frog up next to the door in his cowboy hat to guard against intruders. You can't be too careful.

Cartman laid himself on his bed, knowing full well he was way too excited to sleep, but figured he'd have to give it a shot anyway. After all, Santa didn't come until you were asleep right? However, just as he thought he might be starting to doze, he heard the sound of his PSP turning on and Grand Theft Auto running. He sat up and looked over at his dresser where he'd left the game. As he watched, the blaring toy shut off.

Cartman would be lying to say he wasn't just a bit freaked out by that. He jumped out of bed, ran and grabbed Clyde Frog, and jumped back under the covers again just in time to hear the sound of chains clattering on the kitchen floor below his bedroom. Then the sound was on the stairs. Then it was outside his room. He would've called for his mom, but he couldn't seem to utter a word. Suddenly, in a flash of orange, Kenny slipped through his closed bedroom door, translucent and dragging a set of chains. He also appeared to be finishing off the leftover ham from dinner. Hence the visit to the kitchen, presumably. He looked pretty normal, save for the translucently and long chains that seemed to be forged of steel encased energy drinks.

"Kenny!" Cartman snapped, "What the fuck! Why aren't you alive yet, asshole? I've had to blackmail Kyle into doing your work!"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Dude, you will not believe the last month. Apparently, getting kindergarteners hooked on energy drinks is really bad. I'm supposed to do purgatory for the next 3 months still! A drag, plus I have to do charity work like this."

Cartman snorted. "Well sucks to be you. What charity work?"

Kenny sighed. "Cartman, you see this chain? This is made of energy drinks. I would've had a bunch of sex infractions too, but I usually make up for those over the various times I die. You, on the other hand, cannot pay for these things over time and when you die you're getting them all at once. And I don't just mean energy drinks; you've been fucking over everyone lately."

"Well I'm making money, aren`t I? Anyway, how do I know you're even real right now? You could be bad pie or the mouldy cheesy poufs I found under the couch cushions!"

"... You are such a dumbass," Kenny shook his head, "Look, this is my charity work. I've got to tell you that you're being a royal asshole and if you don't change you'll end up having to drag along a way longer chain than this one, and you'll be doing it at age 45 due to heart failure."

"Who wants to be an old fart anyway? Go away Kenny, hell's for a Jews, I've been saved remember?" Cartman scoffed.

Kenny folded his arms. "Hell's for pretty much everyone, I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about purgatory! It's like, detention after school, only it's afterlife. You have to float around, watching misery and then sometimes you have to try to help people who probably can't be helped anyway. And right now you're looking at a really long time in purgatory. Most people do good deeds and even themselves out somewhat, but you're really fucking up big time."

"So what, your charity work is to bitch at me until I change? You'll be bitching a fucking long time po' boy!"

Kenny smirked a little. "Actually no, I'll here to tell you that 3 other ghosts will be coming to bitch at you tonight. Then I'm off for Christmas vacation. It's pretty sweet."

Cartman looked a little pissed off. "Look, I have to go to sleep so Santa and/or my mother can put my I-Pod Touch under the tree! Now GET OUT!"

Kenny sighed. "Like you deserve an I-Pod Touch... well whatever. Expect the first ghost at 1am, I'm off. Merry Christmas fat ass," Kenny giggled and then sighed, going toward Cartman's window and jumping through the closed glass into the night. Cartman could suddenly hear moaning coming from the street and dared a peek. Outside the skies were filled with wretched spirits moaning and crying, all wearing chains like Kenny's. As Cartman watched, they faded from sight.

Cartman rolled his eyes and headed for bed. "What a bunch of whiney pussies," were his final words on the matter before he fell asleep.

**TBC**


	2. The Ghost of Christmas Past

**A South Park Christmas Carol**

**Chapter 2: The Ghost of Christmas Past**

Cartman woke up unexpectedly when his clock radio buzzed to life at 1:00am. He reached over and shut it off in annoyance and was about to turn over when something rapped him hard on the head.

"OW! What the_ fuck_?" Cartman looked over to see he had been hit by Grandpa Marsh's angry transparent hand. This was surprising. Cartman didn't know Stan's grandpa was dead. He looked pretty good actually, in this form. He was still in his wheelchair, but his face was smooth and he had a full head of hair. You couldn't mistake who he was though.

"Get up, Billy!" Grandpa Marsh spat, "I just finally died 3 hours ago in my sleep, and I'm suddenly told I can't go on into the afterlife until I show you Christmas Past or some shit!"

Cartman snorted and folded his arms. "Well sucks to be you fagtron, I'm going back to sleep!"

"No you're not! Com'ere Billy." With surprising strength, Grandpa Marsh grabbed Cartman's pudgy arm and yanked him out of bed and toward the window which opened as they approached.

"My name's not Billy, asshole! And you can't yank me out the window, that's 5 ft off the fucking ground! I'll die asshole!"

"Well sucks to be you, you little asswipe!" Grandpa Marsh grunted and hauled both of them outside. But to Cartman's amazement they did not drop to the ground, instead flying up into the sky.

"Holy shit!" Cartman gasped and kicked his legs about wildly in the air as Grandpa Marsh pulled him through the sky in his wheelchair.

"Yeah, enjoy it, this is probably the lightest you'll ever get, Pudgy."

"AYE!" The two flew for a while until they landed on an old cobblestone street. Cartman looked around in confusion. "The fuck... where the hell are we?"

"This is where I had my Christmases when I was a boy! And all I got was a stinking orange! And I had to walk twelve miles to school every day _uphill _on my knees! And don't even get me _started_ about the prisons and workhouses..."

Cartman glared and folded his arms in a huff. "Well what the fuck does that have to do with me?"

"Nothing, but I figure as long as I'm allowed the power to time travel I'm going to abuse it. No one can see us here so I figure I'm gonna go spend one more night on the _Margaret Louise_... the hottest baker's daughter to grace a tavern," Grandpa Marsh grinned and rolled off down the street.

"H-hey, wait up!" Cartman puffed and tried to give chase but ended up giving up pretty fast. He instead decided to walk up and down the streets, wondering sadly if he'd be back home in time to open his I-Pod Touch before the greedy Jew came over to probably steal it to 'teach him a lesson' or some bullshit.

"E-Eric?" a high pitched voice suddenly came from behind him. He looked around but saw nothing but tramps and hobos. "Is that you?"

"Who wants to know?" Cartman growled, looking around in bewilderment.

"Oh my goodness! My dear, dear brother!" A laughing girl came pelting out of the darkness who, with a brown ponytail bobbing, flung herself around Cartman's flabby midsection.

"Who the hell are you?" Cartman gasped, struggling to pull the random girl off himself.

"I'm your little sister!" she smiled, "But... of course you don't know me." She released Cartman and drew back, looking sad now.

Cartman was puzzled. The girl did seem to bear some resemblance to his mother, and maybe just a little to him, but he was pretty sure he'd know about having a sister, especially one in maybe the second grade. "Okay... well I have to find Stan's dead grandpa so I can go home, so-"

The girl's eyes got wide. "Oh please don't go! Dad wants to see you too! He's much kinder now, and-"

Cartman scowled. "I don't have a dad! Well I do, it's my mom but, well it's complicated!"

The girl shook her head. "Oh no, I mean, you did have a dad and a sister, me, but we were written out of the pilot!"

"What pilot? Crazy little bitch..." Cartman muttered.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?" an angry voice came from the darkness.

"NO! IT'S MATT AND TREY!" the little girl screamed and hid behind Cartman's bulk.

"BITCH!" a Jew-froed man came out from the blackness, "YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT TO BREAK THE 4TH WALL!" There was a sucking sound and the little girl was drawn, screaming, away from Cartman towards the void. "GO BACK TO FAILED IDEA HELL, WHERE YOU BELONG!"

"EEK!" she screamed and there was silence.

"... what the fuck," Cartman blinked as Grandpa Marsh wheeled up next to him, looking flushed with his hair mussed up and large bright red lip stick smears all over his face, down his chest to his... uh...

"Come on Billy, now we're going to see how you failed at your own Christmases," Grandpa Marsh tugged Cartman into the sky and away.

Cartman landed with a bump in the school yard of South Park elementary. He saw himself come out the door accompanied by Kenny, Kyle and Stan. The four rushed outside and stuck their tongues out to catch snowflakes when Past Cartman stopped and glared at Kyle.

"Hey, Jews can't eat Christmas snow!" Cartman of the past snapped.

"Screw you Cartman!" Kyle snapped back.

"Hey, I remember that!" Cartman of the present laughed, "What a dumbass Jew." The scene changed and Cartman faced himself at his grandmother's house, being handed a present by his grandmother.

"It's a sweater; I think it will look very good on you!" Cartman's grandmother smiled.

"What the hell, I drove five hours in the car to the middle of nowhere for a fucking _SWEATER_?" past Cartman raged.

"Grandma was an old whore," present Cartman grumbled, still blaming her for his still-painful loss of one million dollars in that whole 'Cartmanland' fiasco. If she'd never left it to him, he never would've lost it, damn it!

The scene changed and Cartman saw himself making fun of Kyle's dreidel song. Then he saw himself leaving all the work of a Christmas animation to Kyle and Stan and coming back in the end to take credit for it. Then he saw himself trying to bring Christmas to the Middle East to get himself off the naughty list. Then he saw himself trying to fight Kyle for making him miss out on Christmas to save his little brother and bring him home for the holidays. Then he saw himself reading his Christmas story where he had Kyle get himself possessed by the anti-Christ.

Cartman sighed "As much as I appreciate the trip down my awesome memory lane, it's gotta be morning by now so-"

"Actually, no time has passed in the present while we were mucking about here," Grandpa Marsh grinning maliciously, "And we're not done!"

"What the fuck asshole! You're just trying to torture me!" Cartman screamed and was about to throw a tantrum when the scene changed again and he saw himself sitting next to Wendy Testaberger in the school library, eating double stuffed Oreos. The fat boy of the present's mouth dropped open. "B-but... this isn't Christmas!"

Grandpa Marsh nodded. "I know, but this'll probably get you to shut the fuck up."

Cartman moaned as he saw Wendy giggle with him and as the scene shifted he witnessed himself being kissed by her. He remembered how much he had really liked that. But in the end, as he soon relived, Wendy went back to Stan.

"The fuck... why the hell would you show me that?" Cartman ground his teeth and tried to fight back the tears that totally were because someone had left onions lying around somewhere. That had really fucking hurt... the bitch. Why would she have done that to him?

As if he'd heard his thoughts, Grandpa Marsh replied, "Well maybe she would've actually liked you if you lost about fifty pounds, Tubby"

"TAKE ME HOME RIGHT NOW!" Cartman screamed, closing his eyes and stamping his foot. When he opened them, he saw himself returned to his bedroom. He was ticked off, but decided to just go to back to bed to get through the rest of the night in peace. Sure enough, in checking his clock radio he confirmed that no time had passed and it was still 1:00am. He snuggled under the covers with Clyde Frog and went back to sleep, the words: "Aging hippie asshole," on his lips.

**TBC**


	3. The Ghost of Christmas Present

**A South Park Christmas Carol**

**Chapter 3: The Ghost of Christmas Present**

Cartman snored himself awake at 2:00am, looking blearily around in wonder of what pulled him out of sleep. He breathed in and realised, he smelled food. Yummy food. He blinked and went for his bedroom door, but upon opening it he found not his hallway, but instead a large room piled high with heaps and heaps of every pie imaginable, not to mention a tower of Salisbury Steak.

"... holy crap," Cartman's eyes were big and he was drooling, "Who made all this stuff?"

"That was me, children!" Cartman turned and to his delight discovered none other than a transparent Chef! "How's it going?"

Cartman sighed. "Pretty bad Chef, I'm supposed to be visited by two other ghosts tonight and that last one pissed me the hell off."

"Well I'm your next ghost, so maybe things'll be better now?" Chef grinned.

"You're the next ghost? Killer! I don't know what I'm going to eat first," he spied a chocolate cake, "Now I do!" he ran for it, but Chef caught him by his coat collar, "AYE! What gives?"

"Oh no children, you can't have this food yet. You don't have the holiday spirit, so if you try to eat the food of The Ghost of Christmas Present it'll all taste like a TV dinner," Chef explained with a serious expression.

"TV dinner? Urg... well where do I get this holiday spirit crap?" Cartman grimaced.

Chef smiled. "Well children, it's all around you! Let me sing you a little song about the holiday spirit..."

"Uh, that's okay Chef-"

"_When it's Christmas time in the afterlife, the nights get pretty cold; but in the bed of the ghost of Christmas Present the passion never gets old! The fire crackles 'round the Yule log, and the cows in the field will low; and so I slide down your body, and-"_

_"_CHEF!" Cartman screeched and Chef stopped his song covered in perspiration.

"Oh, oh children," Chef chuckled, "Maybe it'd better if I just showed you Christmas around South Park this year, and maybe you'll get it?"

Cartman sighed. "I suppose, as long as I get pie afterwards..."

"Then just touch my Chef's hat and we'll be gone!"

Chef bent down and Cartman reached out and with the brush of his fingers on the white fabric, the room vanished to the glory of Christmas Day in South Park. Children were tobogganing and skating with brand new equipment, families were singing together and couples were kissing under mistletoe. All around was a sound of happy good cheer.

"Ah sweet! Let's get back to my house so I can open my presents!" Cartman grinned but as he made to dash home, Chef grabbed his coat collar again.

"Not yet children, it's my job to show you some things that are happening in the present so you'll have to stick with me for a while. You'll get Christmas soon enough. Besides, no one can see or hear us anyway," Chef smiled but Cartman glared.

"Fuck that, I want my I-Pod Touch!"

"Oh boy," Chef sighed and then looked at Cartman severely, "You're going to experience the joy of Christmas present by following me around town, or I'm going to kick your ass, you got that?"

Cartman could tell Chef meant business and swallowed "Erm... okay" he shuffled his feet. Chef nodded and the two headed down the street. They stopped beside a couple of hobos sharing a sandwich and Chef sprinkled some seasoning on the meagre meal from a shaker. Cartman looked curious. "What was that, salt?"

"It's a special flavour, my own," Chef grinned.

"... eww..." Cartman muttered.

"Not like that children!" Chef's eyes widened and he waved his hands defensively, "It's just a secret recipe! Now come on," he continued down the street with the little fat cracker following behind him. Soon they came upon the houses of the small town and Cartman raised an eyebrow.

"Why the hell are we at Kyle's house? Jews don't celebrate Christmas!" Cartman huffed.

"No," Chef admitted, "Still, Kyle has been around for all the Christmas adventures you've all had and therefore he's still a part of Christmas. That's something that you seem to have neglected for years."

"Whatever," Cartman said in irritation as they approached the house. Chef pushed him through the closed door that seemed to melt aside like water for them to pass.

Inside he saw Kyle sitting in front of the TV, looking exhausted. He checked his watch and looked over at the staircase. Cartman wondered what this was all about.

"Ky-el..." a moan came from upstairs, followed by coughing. Kyle sighed.

"Right on cue," he muttered, but put on a smile as he climbed the stairs to his little brother Ike's room, "What's up Ike?"

"Can I get a glass of water?" Ike rasped, "And some Energy drink?"

"You know you shouldn't have more of that," Kyle said gently, making a face.

Ike smiled weakly. "I know. Just testing you. Water please?"

"S-sure bro," Kyle nodded and went back downstairs, unable to refuse the request but Cartman and Chef stayed in Ike's dark chambers.

"Hey, what's wrong with the Canadian?" Cartman quirked an eyebrow.

Chef sighed. "Those energy drinks Kenny made turned Ike a sugar addict like the rest of them. But unlike the rest, Ike doesn't want to be a sugar crazed psychopath, so he's trying to fight it. Only thing is, it's not that simple. He needs an antidote to Kenny's energy drink; hell, all the kids do. But if Ike keeps resisting the call of that energy drink without a proper antidote, he could end up dead."

Cartman gaped. "_DEAD_?"

Chef nodded. "Yep, and his blood will be on your hands cracker."

"M-MY HANDS? But Kenny invented that drink, not me!"

Chef nodded again, more gravely. "Yes, and he's doing time for it isn't he? But now you know the problem, and you really should work on the antidote."

"Jesus Christ... okay," Cartman sighed, running a hand down his face in agitation, "But can't that wait until after Christmas?"

Chef paused. "It... might have to..." he shifted uncomfortably.

Cartman frowned."Why?"

"Erm... I'll leave that to the Future," Chef laughed nervously, "Anyway, there's more to see." The black man took Cartman's arm and led him out of the Broflovski house and down the street again. Now they came to Stan's house and it seemed to be Christmas afternoon. Stan was up in his room flanked by Wendy, Butters, Jimmy and Timmy.

"Where's Kyle and Eric?" Butters asked, cocking his head to one side.

Stan groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Well Kyle's taking care of Ike cause he's got the flu or something, and Cartman-"

"Is being a pig headed selfish piece of shit as per usual," Wendy folded her arms and glared snootily, "So we didn't invite him." Cartman winced. That had stung a little.

"Oh, well, yeah I guess," Butters rubbed his knuckles together and looked down.

"W-w-w-well you guys, w-what did you are ge-ge-geeee get for Christmas?" Jimmy asked.

"Timmah! Timmah Timmah!"

"Oh b-boy Timmy, that sounds f-fa-faaaa-fant-tastic!"

"Timmah!" Timmy agreed enthusiastically.

"He's such a bastard!" Wendy raged, apparently not ready to change the subject, "He doesn't care about anybody but himself!"

"Who, Timmy?" Butters asked in surprise.

"No, Cartman!" Wendy snapped.

Stan looked uncomfortable. "Well... yeah he's a jerk but we all kind of knew that already."

"And he cheats at every test! Every single one! Not that it does him much good but..."

"Yeah but it's-" Stan tried to speak, but Wendy quickly talked over him.

"And he's always up to some new money making scheme, even going to the point of addicting small children to an energy drink!"

"Well that was sort of started by Kenny," Stan pointed this out, but was ignored in Wendy's tirade.

"AND ON TOP OF THAT pretty much ENSLAVING Kyle!"

"I agree, but it's just so... well, Cartman. It's what he does," Stan looked at the other three boys for help but no help was forthcoming.

"And he never even OPENED the Christmas card I gave him! He laughed and threw it in the trash and called me a hippie!" Wendy's voice cracked and her hands fled to her mouth. The boys now stared at her.

"Y-you gave Eric a Christmas card, Wendy?" Butters asked in surprise, likely unsure if he heard correctly.

"Um... yeah well..." Wendy shifted beside Stan, "I-I just... I thought maybe he'd get more holiday spirit if he read it!" she stopped speaking rather quickly, blush spreading over her cheeks.

"Um... yeah," Stan said, seeming unsure how he should be reacting to this. Cartman stared at this scene for a moment, then took off running straight through Stan's bedroom wall. He ran into the street and headed for the school.

"HEY! STOP!" Chef yelled behind him but for once in his life Cartman ran as if wings were on his feet. He hoped the Mexican janitor had been too lazy to empty the trash cans before the holidays, and to his delight that seemed to be the case. He quickly found the hall garbage he had tossed Wendy's card and dug through its disgusting interior until his found the crumpled card with a picture of a Christmas tree on it. He opened the card hesitantly, still far ahead of Chef, and read the short note inside.

_strikeDear,Merry,I /strike_

_Cartman,_

_I don't know if you really remember me kissing you and then sort of dumping you back in the third grade, but it's been sort of bothering me lately and I want to say I'm sorry for playing with your feelings like that. I know you can be a real prick sometimes, but I sort of realised that maybe it's because no one's ever that nice to you either. So Merry Christmas Cartman and I hope you can forgive me._

_strikeFrom,Yours Truly,Love/strike_[this one had many strikes through it and was hard to make out]

_Sincerely,_

_Wendy_

Cartman bit his lip and scrunched the Christmas card up in his palm. "Stupid bitch," he muttered as Chef put a hand on his shoulder and Cartman found himself in his bedroom again. But the card from Wendy was still in his hand and melted snow was on his feet. He shivered and jumped into bed, but shook beneath the covers, wondering what the last visit would bring him, and wondering if writing 'Love' had been a mistake or if Wendy had seriously considered putting that there. It was quite the thought to ponder.

**TBC**


	4. The Goths of Christmas Yet To Come

**A South Park Christmas Carol**

**Chapter 4: The Goths of Christmas Yet To Come**

Cartman did not come close to falling asleep this time, and was rather surprised to find himself upright and standing out in a foggy mist next to Stark's Pond without a clue when or how he got in that position. But he did suppose it had something to do with the visitation of the final ghost of the night. To his left, he saw a large dark mass approaching and he shivered, suddenly very afraid.

"A-are you the ghost of Christmas Future?" Cartman managed to gasp out.

"No," came a female, lazy sort of voice, "We're the GOTHS of Christmas Yet To Come."

"As if we'd be some conformist ghosts," a male voice also sounded which, as the mass took tangible form, Cartman could see came from the tallest of the Goths.

"Yeah," the Red Goth added, flipping his hair.

Cartman stared at the Goths for a moment, then looked pissed off. "Aw fuck, not you fags!" He snorted, then paused and did a double take. "Wait, aren't there usually four of you?"

"Yeah, but ONE of us is currently addicted to your stupid energy drink and is bouncing off the walls at Chucky Cheese thanks to you!" Red seethed and flipped his hair in anger.

"Well excuuuuuse me, princess!" Cartman snapped, putting his hands on his chunky hips. "And since when are you guys dead?"

"We're not," Henrietta glared, "But during our séance tonight we contacted the ghost of Christmas Yet To Come and he said he was supposed to be visiting you tonight but wanted to go to some ultimate Christmas Party in Hell. We said we'd fill in for him. So he gave us some ghost powers for tonight."

"Yeah, so come on, let's go," Curly Goth drawled, pointing across the sombre pond with his cigarette, "We have to show you the future."

"Goddamn it," Cartman groaned, but followed without further complaint. That in itself was probably some sort of achievement. In his mind though, Cartman really didn't want to know what would be happening in this future. They walked into the wreckage that was once the town of South Park. The shops and houses were full of broken windows; hundreds of bottles of Kenny's Energy Drink littered the streets. "Oh shit."

"Oh my fucking God," Red blinked, cigarette falling out of his mouth. Obviously, the Goths hadn't seen this future yet themselves, though they had heard about the important stuff from the ghost when they took over his job. It was different seeing it themselves.

"EEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" a ringing screech came from all around as a surge of kindergarteners and first graders zoomed into the streets. Cartman turned to see what they were chasing. It seemed to be... a super bouncy ball. That was shiny. When they passed by, Cartman and the Goths were breathing hard.

"Holy shit, I think I saw Cody in there!" Curly Goth gasped, naming the kindergarten Goth.

"So, I assume the kids addicted to the energy drinks wrecked the town..." Cartman blinked, "Was that all you had to show me?"

"No, come on," Henrietta frowned and led the group to what appeared to be Kyle's house.

"Why are we- oh yeah, did Ike die then?" Cartman asked nibbling on his lower lip.

"Yeah," Red Goth flipped his fringe, "Kyle's parents fled town with most of the other townspeople but Kyle refused to just leave the kids to die so he works out of his basement here, trying to find a cure for your energy drinks. Wendy and Stan are helping him out."

Cartman glanced at the Goths. "Well, phht, well where am I? Am I dead or something?" he said with a note of fearful anxiety.

Curly Goth shook his head. "No," he smirked a little, "We'll show you where you are, and where Kenny is," the Goths walked on, and Cartman had no choice but to follow them as they headed for Cartman's house. It was the only one that seemed relatively untouched, but the windows were boarded over. They walked through the front door.

Inside, random ingredient boxes were strewn about and frantic clinking sounds were heard from the basement. They descended the stairs to find Eric Cartman of the Future, ten pounds lighter, bags under his eyes, mixing up energy drink after energy drink in a rapid motion... with five first graders cracking whips. The present fat boy looked on in horror and discovered his future self was _chained_ to the work station. The Goths and Cartman heard a noise from upstairs and Kenny came down with a group of five more first graders, carrying more boxes of supplies.

"Hey dude," Kenny laughed darkly, "More of the sweet stuff."

"NO TALKING! MORE ENERGY DRINKS!" screamed one first grader... Cartman thought he recognised him as some kid named Fillmore.

"Yeah, okay!" Cartman of the Future snapped and picked up the pace, Kenny joining him to work now.

"This is horrible, am I stuck doing that forever? Jesus Christ!" Cartman gasped.

"No not forever," Henrietta rolled her eyes, "Kyle's going to find the cure, the military are going to come and try to bomb the fuck out of the kids, then Kyle will talk about what he learned today and you'll be fine."

Cartman paused. "Well as much as I don't want to be a kindergartener slave for any amount of time, what's the lasting harm out of this?"

Curly Goth glared. "Well, Ike is dead, for one thing."

Cartman shifted a little. "I guess, but he's pretty much just another stupid Canadian Jew so..."

"Well there's another thing, come on," Henrietta went back upstairs and Cartman followed her and the older Goth boys out of his house and into the street just in time for the Kindergarteners and first graders to make another dash past, screeching on the way.

"What now?" Cartman snapped and turned to see none other than Mr. Kitty running from the mob of young children. "MR. KITTY, NO!"

"No!" came another voice from the house to the left and a dash of dirty pink coat and black hair dashed between the cat doomed to a deadly mauling and the raging group of energy drink crazed children.

"W-Wendy?" Cartman choked out.

"WENDY! COME BACK!" Stan and Kyle raced out after her... but were too late. The kindergarteners and first graders lunged over Wendy Testaberger, burying her, suffocating her.

"NO! OH GOD NO!" Cartman screamed and hid his eyes, "TAKE ME BACK! TAKE ME BACK! I CAN'T WATCH THIS!" he howled.

"Not yet!" Red Goth snapped and slapped Cartman upside the head, "Pay attention to your conformist friends for a second!"

"No! No Wendy!" Stan cried as the children dispersed, once again after the cat.

"No! Not now, we'd just discovered the antidote!" Kyle moaned, waving a sheet with the formula on it in his hand.

Cartman perked up. "I have to see that!" he raced forward and snatched the paper from Kyle's hands. The Jew only saw the paper vanish and stood gaping in bewilderment as Cartman read the list. Most of it seemed like pretty normal ingredients and it seemed to need only a small dosage to work but- "Oh you've got to be fucking with me."

"What?" Curly Goth muttered and took the paper. "Crushed interior of an I-Pod Touch? Seriously? I guess it'd be a really small amount but... damn what was IN that energy drink?"

"No way, I am NOT sacrificing MY NEW I-Pod Touch!" Cartman shook his head. "No effing way!"

"Wendy..." Stan cradled Wendy's body to his chest as the military moved in.

"No, the antidote, we don't have the formula! Oh shit!" Kyle panicked, eyes widening in horror.

"Oh fuck, FINE! I'll make the formula and save Kyle's brother and all that shit just take me home!" Cartman moaned, looking morose at the prospect. But he really didn't have much choice given this perceived future. "That will fix everything right?"

"It fucking better!" Curly Goth snapped, "Apparently we all die! I'm not dying like some conformist!" The military moved in and since Cartman had taken Kyle's list, they had nothing to stop them with. They fired an atom bomb.

"NOOOO!" Cartman screamed as the white flash engulfed them.

When he awoke, the moon still shining, in his bed. The recipe for the antidote was gasped in one hand, his card from Wendy in his other hand. The clock read 3:00am. No time had passed since he went to the future. He looked at the antidote and then sighed. He had some gifts to unwrap, and some mixing to do. Fuck.

**TBC**


	5. Here Endeth The Lesson

**A South Park Christmas Carol**

**Chapter 5: Here Endeth the Lesson**

Cartman quickly ripped open his packages from his mom, knowing full well Santa hadn't brought him any sort of I-Pod for Christmas. He found the I-Pod in the third one and headed with a heavy heart for the kitchen. He mixed up all the ingredients and had just finished puree-ing the I-Pod Touch for the concoction when low and behold young Kenny McCormick ran into the kitchen, fully alive this time.

"Dude, I just escaped purgatory, go me!" he cheered, "Oh, and Kyle was wrong about the Touch, you basically just need a remote control and- ooooh..." he noticed the Touch was currently on the verge of being added to the antidote, and Cartman's anger had snapped.

"WHAT THE FUCK KENNY? YOU COULDN'T HAVE TOLD ME THIS THIRTY FREAKING SECONDS EARLIER?"

"Sorry, sorry!" Kenny laughed uneasily, "Well, your mom'll probably buy you a new one if you beg her, right?"

Cartman stamped his foot, "Yeah, but the stores are _CLOSED _today! I'd have to wait until tomorrow!"

"Oh boo-hoo!" Kenny said, rolling his eyes, "We have to distribute the antidote anyway today. Go get your TV remote."

Cartman grumbled but headed for the living room, thinking about how much of an asshole that po' boy was. He returned and blended the remote with the rest of the antidote and quickly made up two bottles of the stuff. They each took an eyedropper before heading off into Christmas morning. This would take a while, but Cartman knew what his first stop was going to be.

".. Cartman?" Kyle snorted, rubbing sleep from his eyes, "It's fucking dawn, shouldn't you be opening presents?" he had answered the door in his pjs.

"Let me in Jew, I'm here to cure your brother of his fucking addiction before he dies and the town goes to hell okay?" Cartman pushed his way into the house and up the stairs to Ike's bedroom. The kid looked pale and sickly, but Cartman marched to the bed and forced the eye dropper into the sick kid's mouth.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" Kyle screamed from the doorway but Cartman managed to squeeze the drops down Ike's throat before he was tackled away from the bed.

"I'm curing him! Jesus Christ!" Cartman growled, wrestling Kyle away as Ike opened his eyes blearily. He blinked, the colour returning to his face. He sat up, rubbing his temples.

"Kyle? What the hell, I-I think I'm over that stupid energy drink!" he grinned.

Kyle stared at his brother's sudden recovery and then turned to Cartman. "Um... thank... you?"

"Yeah, well, it looks like I'm going to have to go out of business too," Cartman said, looking dejected, "So you don't have to work tomorrow. Enjoy the bargains you stinking Jew," Cartman muttered, evacuating himself from the room and house to help Kenny with the rest of the town's sugar crazed children.

It was late in the afternoon when Kenny and Cartman met up at the last stop on their rounds. The Goths were present as well, as it was Cody's house and they wanted their fourth minion back. Once he was safely returned to his depression and smoking habit with his fellows, Cartman turned to Kenny with a sigh.

"Well, I guess there's still Christmas dinner, but that's not for another hour and I think I opened all the good gifts this morning, so what do you want to do now?"

Kenny shrugged. "I don't know, want to go over to Stan's? Everyone was going to hang out there anyway, right?"

"I guess," Cartman shrugged and the two headed for the blue-hatted boy's abode.

Inside Stan, Wendy, Butters, Jimmy, Timmy, Kyle and Ike were all playing a rousing game of air hockey in the basement and Ike was proving his Canadian name by beating everyone else royally. When Kenny came in with a grin, everyone laughed and told him he was an idiot but thank God for the antidote, he made it right?

"Well no, not really," Kenny shrugged, "Kyle did, and then Cartman stole it in the future and used it now before Ike died, not that that was his real reason for helping out, anyway, come in fat ass!"

"Poor asshole..." Cartman muttered before descending the basement steps, red in the face.

"C-Cartman made the antidote? And... and saved Ike's life with it?" Wendy blinked from her spot on the sidelines cheering on Stan. Though really, the attempt of cheering was futile, as the score was 9-1 to Ike.

"Yeah I made the antidote, what of it? Now is this a party, and if it is where's the goddamn cheesy poufs?" Cartman snapped.

"Oh, Cartman must have really saved Ike's life and everything, else wise he'd be acting all smug as usual. He must've actually done something nice!" Butters beamed.

"SHUT UP ASSHOLE!" Cartman snapped.

"Holy crap," Ike said, not believing he could possibly be indebted to the fat kid.

"Urg, well if you're all going to be fucking fags about it!" Cartman growled, "Screw you guys, I'm going home!" he stormed out... not noticing a crumpled something fall out of his coat pocket onto the basement floor. Wendy reached down for it and looked at Cartman's retreating form.

"Hey Cartman! You dropped your-" she looked at what she was holding, "H-he... he got it out of the trash? And kept it?" Wendy was amazed.

"What? What is it?" Stan asked in confusion.

"Sorry Stan! CARTMAN WAIT!" Wendy ran after the lard ball, and everyone sort of stared after her.

"T-Timmah?"

"I don't know either Timmy. P-p-p-perhaps Sh-she needed some a-a-a-aaaa-air?"

"Cartman wait!" Wendy caught up with him at Stan's front door, "You dropped your- my- you dropped the card I gave you..." she muttered and handed Cartman the crumpled drawn Christmas tree.

"Oh, uh," Cartman stared at it and blushed hard, "I- it- you-"he couldn't seem to think of an explanation.

"So, um, I guess you read it now so..." Wendy sighed, "I really am sorry. I was just thinking about my own feelings and well... yeah. It was kind of selfish of me"

"Yeah," Cartman shuffled his feet, "So, um, I... I guess I can forgive you."

"Really?"

"Uh, yeah," Cartman was startled by her enthusiasm, "I mean, it was a while ago." He looked back down at the card. He smirked just a little. "So I notice you accidently wrote love at the end." He laughed awkwardly.

"Oh! Um, yeah, you can still see that?" Wendy frowned and looked embarrassed.

"Heh, s-sort of" Cartman stammered, suddenly aware of how close they were to each other. He glanced up. Mistletoe. Oh... dear... sweet... Jesus...

Wendy launched herself at Cartman's lips and kissed hard. He fell back against the door and smacked his head good, but didn't really seem to notice.

"What... what about Stan?" Cartman breathed when she let go.

"Can we please worry about him later? I don't want to wreck this," Wendy murmured, and they kissed again.

"Oh boy" Kenny sighed from the top of the basement stairs, "Just what need. More friend drama. Ah well," he smiled a bit, "Merry fucking Christmas, Fat Ass." With that he returned to the basement to find Randy Marsh's Christmas porno tapes. 'Tis the season and all that.

**THE END**


End file.
